For Once, I Didn't Disengage
by AdriDark
Summary: PostRENT. When Mark meets the perfect girl, things quickly become complicated. Will he finally step out from behind the camera to play a part in these events? MarkOC. Rating could change in the future.


Title: No Longer Alone

Rating: Teen, but subject to possible change

Category: RENT

Genre: Romance/Drama

Summary: When Mark meets a girl, thinks quickly become complicated. Will he finally step out from behind the camera to play a part in these events? Mark/OC

Main characters: Mark Cohen and Amy Lansing

* * *

Chapter one: Blind date

"No. Absolutely not!" Mark Cohen slammed his wallet down on the table as he fixed Roger with a challenging glare. "I can't believe you told her I'd do it!" He wrestled with his scarf as he spoke, which almost emphasized his words.

"Oh, come on, Mark! I think this could be good for you!" Roger slapped his friend on the back with extra flourish. "You need to get back out there!" Roger knew, of course, that Mark would protest. That was actually half the fun-seeing him pissed off and red in the face. He would cave in the end, as he did with everything else. Mark had always been a people pleaser and there was almost a sense of comfort in knowing that it would never change. "Mimi says that Karen is really nice and unique. She sounds perfect for you! Just give her a chance!

Having successfully removed his scarf, Mark was now staring at it, as though memorizing every stitch. "I'm not sure about this. It's been a while." He slowly placed his scarf on the coat rack before turning around to face Roger. He shrugged lamely. "I just think that maybe- well, I'm not sure blind dates are really my thing."

Roger shook his head. "They're no big deal, really. You meet the girl, compliment her outfit, got out to eat, and have fun getting to know her." He walked over to the couch and plopped down on with an exaggerated sigh. "What are you afraid of? Really, what's the worst that could happen? You make a stupid comment, she gets offended and dumps a pitcher of water on your head, then storms out. No biggie."

"Encouragement noted." It was Mark's turn to sigh in frustration as he sat down on the couch. "You must really want me out of here tonight. You and Mimi have a date?"

A grin spread across Roger's face. "Something like that." He laughed. "But really, Mark, I would hate to see you pass up this opportunity."

There was a moment of silence as Mark considered. "Where did Mimi meet Karen, anyway?"

Reluctantly, Roger muttered his reply. "At the Catscratch Club. They used to be…colleagues."

Mark rolled his eyes. "Great. Not just a blind date but a blind date with a pole dancer." He absentmindedly fiddled with his camera as he mulled over the new information- a nervous habit he had never been able to kick.

"Hey, not all pole dancers are bad." Roger grinned and gave Mark a playful punch on the arm. And he was right. It had been almost two years since Roger had first met Mimi, the love of his life. Though the first year had been complicated, at best, the two lovebirds were now enjoying every moment of their life together-savoring every moment as though it was their last. AIDS may have robbed them of half their life but it had not numbed their hearts.

"I know that. I just don't think that's _my_ type, Roger." He almost considered taking off his jacket but ruled against it. He was too lazy to get back up to put it away. "I'll think about it."

Roger gave Mark a sheepish grin. "Well, think fast, pal. Karen will be here in less than an hour." With that, he promptly got back up and headed for the door.

"What? Roger!" Mark turned around where he sat to yell at his retreating friend. The door slammed on his protest. "Damn."

* * *

And that's how Mark found himself at the little restaurant down the street, across the table from Karen, the pole dancer. Perhaps, the universe has a sense of humor, but Mark was cursing it, just then. 

_Clink, clink. _All that could be heard was the annoying sound of silverware on the plates and soft murmuring of the other diner's conversation.

"So…" Mark tried desperately to end the stifling silence. "I hear you work at the Catscratch club. That sounds…interesting.

Pretty, brown-eyed Karen looked up from her chicken breast. "I'm not a slut."

"Um, ok. I never accu-,"

"Oh, yeah. I've heard it a million times. You're _so_ nonjudgmental. The truth is simple. We get no respect. People either see us as sinners or objects. It's a lose-lose, situation." She paused for a moment. "What about you?"

Taken aback by Karen's outburst, Mark stopped mid-chew. "Come again?"

"What do you see me as? A sinner or an object?" She fixed him with a steady gaze that made him bit nervous. "Well?"

Mark took his time, chewing the chicken slowly, and reluctantly swallowing it. The question was a double-edged sword. Either answer would earn him a slap, and rightfully so. "Is there another option?"

Karen smirked. "So, you don't want to tell me to my face, then?" She shook her head as she laughed dryly. "Of course not. Men are so like that. What is their problem? What is _your_ problem?"

Mark was really starting to wish he had kept his mouth shut. The silence was the lesser of two evils, as he was now seeing. "Look, this date has been really fun but I'm not really sensing a genuine connection between us. I-,"

If looks could kill, Mark would've dropped dead on the spot. Karen's glare made him freeze, terrified of what her next move would be. "Are you breaking up with me? Because of where I work?"

"What? Breaking up with you? I don't really think that's the term after just one date." The instant those words left his mouth, he regretted them. Karen would undoubtedly take them the wrong way.

He was right. The look of anger that crossed across the girl's pretty features startled him a bit. Karen's dark eyes eyes darted around and Mark suddenly became painfully aware of the steak knife in front of his date. But her hand reached right past the knife to the ketchup bottle. With narrowed eyes, she squeezed it, aiming the stream of ketchup at Mark's face. After a few moments, she slammed the bottle back down on the table and briskly exited the restaurant.

Sighing, Mark picked up a napkin and proceeded to wipe the condiment off of his face. "Great. Just fantastic," he muttered to himself. _Well, it wasn't a pitcher of water. _Disaster didn't even begin to describe this date. It was over the minute it started. Feeling like a complete failure, Mark leaned back in the booth and stared at the rising bubbles in his glass of Coca-Cola. He had a lot of time to kill before Roger would let him back into the apartment. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he hardly noticed the waitress approaching.

* * *

If anyone understood Mark's misery, it was Amy Lansing. Aside from the four broken plates and numerous food stains, Amy had come to work with a throbbing headache. Angrily, she had cursed her misfortune, until she witnessed Karen's meltdown. Although it was comforting to know she wasn't the most pathetic person in the room, she couldn't help but pity the poor bloke. 

She stared at him for a moment. She had noticed him the minute he had entered the restaurant. Something about him seemed intriguing and enticing. However, his eyes had never wandered his way. Why should they? He had an exotic-looking raven-haired beauty in front of him, and she was a frumpy, stringy-haired waitress.

Shaking her head, Amy headed to the bar and prepared two beers. Before she knew what she was doing, she was heading toward the man with the drinks on a tray. "You look like you could use a beer." Usually, Amy stuck to taking orders and delivering the generic "Special of the Day" speech. Since small talk and genuine kindness weren't required, she rarely offered either.

There was a moment of silence and Amy stood there, shifting her weight from foot to foot, mentally kicking herself for being so stupid.

"Yeah, I think I could." Relief washed over the waitress as he replied.

Amy set both the beers on the table and sat down across from the customer. "There are other fish in the sea."

The man laughed, shaking his head as he took a sip of his beer. "You sound like my mother."

"Ah, what every woman loves to hear. So, who was she? If it's not too personal, that is." Amy didn't know why, but she truly cared about him. And she was yet to learn his name.

"No, not at all, actually. It was a blind date my best friend talked me into." Mark finally looked up at his Good Samaritan. It was a waitress he had never noticed before. It wasn't very hard to figure out why. She seemed to dance on the fine line between ugly and pretty. But in all honesty, she came much closer to the latter. Her eyes, however, intrigued Mark. Because somehow, they reflected exactly how he had been feeling this past year- alone and frustrated.

Amy took a gulp of her beer, fully aware that it wasn't a very lady-like act. "My name's Amy, by the way. Amy Lansing." Her green eyes looked at him, expectant.

"Mar Cohen."

A soft smile crept across Amy's lips. "I like that name. So Mark, I'm going to ask you a question that I only ask particular people. I only ask certain people because the answer opens up the very window into a person's soul." She got very quiet as she stared at Mark across the table. "What is your favorite color?"

Mark laughed. What Amy lacked in looks, she made up for in wit and charm. "Blue. And you, Miss Lansing?"

"Yellow. But don't tell anyone." She winked at him.

Something came over Mark at that moment. A feeling he hadn't felt in what seemed like forever. One he had almost forgotten about. Infatuation. "So Amy, let's say we get out of here."

* * *

**Please tell me how you felt about the first chapter. I wrote most of it in one night so I'm afraid it's not my best work. Reviews means love 3. **


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